Generations
by Lupin's Mistress
Summary: My version of season 2. When Claire discovers Nathan isn't her father, she travels to Ireland where she meets someone she knew to be dead, even though Angela had said..."who diggeth a hole shall fall therein" Ensemble. Paire. SylarElle. summary inside.
1. Four Months Later

**Author's Note:** I swore almost a year ago that my latest Harry Potter fanfiction would be my last. That I would not extend myself out to other fandoms or continue in the Harry Potter fandom and write any new fanfics. I wanted only to finish what I was working on, go my merry way and sometimes come in here to linger for some time, while I worked on my original stories. As you can all see, that didn't quite work, because instead I ended up watching Heroes this summer. I mean, the show had always been there and I had always wanted to watch it but it interfered with other tv watching, or something, so I never had, but I picked it up this summer and while watching the second season, it hit me that I didn't really like where the story was headed. So, I started to plan a story in my mind. Forming plots that could extend from what the writers from Heroes had begun. And then, a few weeks ago, I started writing, and I'll let you guys know, right now, I'm not really fully sure where I'm going with it, but that I will be using a lot of the plot from season 2 to start me off, but that I am putting my own twist to things and mostly summarizing some things because I couldn't handle writting exact scenes from the show. Anyway, I should stop rambling. Please review. And Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Heroes, Tim Kring and NBC do. I also do not own the large amount of characters that I've taken my liberty with playing with. I also do not own some of this plot...but just as I don't own all of it...I also do own some of it.

**Summary: **When Claire discovers that Nathan isn't her father, she travels to Ireland where she hopes to find some information as to where her real father is, she isn't expecting to run into an old friend she thought dead, even though Angela had had a vision...Where no one knows the heroes from the villans and mistakes from the past keep haunting them, what are our favorite heroes to do. At every turn they must deal with more problems. What does Adam have to do with this, and is he really the one behind the founders getting killed. What was that saying: "who diggeth a pit shall fall therein".

**Volume 2: Generations**

_**Chapter One:**_

_**Four Months Later**_

* * *

**Claire Bennet and the Petrellis**

**Petrelli Mansion**

**Hyde Park, New York**

Claire Bennet had known Nathan Petrelli for four months, and even she knew that the mess his home office had become was not Nathan's usual style. Neither was the beard he had let take residence upon his face, or the constant smell of some sort of alcoholic beverage on his breath. She had been in his office only a handful of times, but when she entered it with Heidi and Angela that Saturday morning on the only day they were all free to have the planned intervention to get Nathan back on his feet, it was thrust upon Claire the severity of the situation. The office was not just littered with empty bottles of his daily poison. There was broken glass, pens strewn all over the place, books soiled and ripped apart, and it seemed that not one thing had remained on a shelf or on his desk.

Nathan was seated behind his desk, a tall bottle of tequila clutched in his right hand tightly as if at any moment someone would try to take it from him. He was slumped in his chair, head hanging back as he stared mindlessly at the ceiling. The window behind him which Claire usually remembered as letting in a good amount of light had been covered by heavy curtains leaving the room in shadow. Taking it all in, now, Claire realized how much harm they had made in letting him wallow in his grief. They had all been blinded by grief.

"Nathan Petrelli, I cannot believe you," Angela said suddenly, the first to push a reaction to the mess away. "We all miss your brother," she continued, crossing the room and pulling the curtains aside and opening the window. "Peter was my son, and I want him back as much as you do, but we must face the facts. Peter is dead. You are not."

"Ma, just leave me alone," Nathan said. His words weren't slurred, not giving any indication that he was drunk or for that matter angry. Instead he sounded resigned.

"Nathan please..." Heidi began, hand stretched out towards him. "The boys miss you...I...miss you."

Nathan didn't respond, unless they counted him lifting his bottle to his lips and taking a shot sized gulp of the drink. It made Claire sick to see him like this, to compare this Nathan to the one that had arrived right at the nick of time to save New York City. For months now she had been picturing that Nathan in her mind. The noble hero that in the end cared enough about his brother's mental state and the millions of people that would die if he let Peter explode. That man she had been proud to call her father, but this one...Claire didn't think she would ever want anything to with him, bio-dad or not.

"...things are changing around here, Nathan. You will not just sit in this office drinking your way into a grave. I will not allow it. What would Peter say?"

"We'll never know," Nathan said in his calm voice. "He's dead!" this he yelled at his mother, standing suddenly and grabbing her by the shoulders as if to shake her. "Your fault. You...Linderman...dad." He let her go suddenly and threw himself into his chair again.

Heidi had begun picking up the few unbroken things from the ground, but now she stopped and looked at Angela. "What does he mean?"

Angela waved her hand. "Oh...you've heard his stories," she said. "It's the alcohol speaking now."

Heidi nodded, but Claire noticed at once that she wasn't just letting it go, and that Angela's excuse for why Nathan was so angry at his mother was not going to last much longer. Claire in fact preferred it this way. She had wanted to allow Heidi in on the secret at once, especially once Nathan had healed from his burns almost overnight. But, Angela, ever the matriarch of the Petrelli family had forbidden it and the thought of putting Heidi in danger with this knowledge had made Claire agree it would be for the best for the time being.

It took them about two hours to clean up the room and leave it close to its previous state. Nathan had broken so many things that it left most of his shelves empty. Angela had insisted on getting rid of anything that was broken, but keeping anything that had at one point truly meant something to Nathan or Peter. By the time they had finished, Nathan had fallen asleep with his head on his desk and the bottle of tequila cuddled to his side.

"We can get him in the shower," Angela said. "Just leave him in there. In the meanwhile we get rid of all the alcohol in the house. I've already called a place up in Maine where he can get some help. Nathan cannot give up on everything now. The public has given him a free pass for the moment. He just lost his brother, but that will not last much longer."

Claire should have known that Angela's agenda extended farther than just helping Nathan move on from Peter's death. Of course she cared about what everyone in New York thought of Nathan. His resignation from his post. His reclusion. The strange circumstances surrounding Peter's death or disappearance. Claire still had the hope that Peter was out there somewhere even after so long. He had her ability. She had been in the presence of Ted Sprague when he blew up her house in Texas and she had healed. Maybe exploding meant it took longer. But Peter needed to be out there. He just had to be.

"Alright, getting him to walk himself up there shouldn't be too hard," Heidi said and with Angela's help made Nathan sit up and then stand. He slumped into Heidi but seemed to hold up some of his weight.

"Come here, Claire, take my place," Angela said and Claire rushed forward.

Their relationship was still rocky. Claire would always look back to the night Peter exploded and remind herself that Angela had been ready to sacrifice half of New York at her son's expense so that Nathan could grow as a political figure and eventually become the president. She knew her grandmother had a higher agenda to the future that might have even included her, but she also knew that she deeply cared for her family. It was her grief, when after two weeks from the explosion they still hadn't heard from Peter, that convinced Claire that Angela had always expected Peter to make it. During this time, Angela had locked herself in her room at the mansion and refused to come out, even for meals. This and Heidi floundering between grief for Peter and fear that her husband was going mad had allowed Nathan to enter the depressive state he was in now. Claire moping around the house and dealing with her adoptive father's wishes that she go with him to California where he planned to move their family hadn't helped to keep her aware of anything other than her own hope that Peter was alive and her pain at knowing that he could very well be dead. Distracted as she was, Claire had still noticed that Angela Petrelli loved her sons; that she had a soft spot for Monty and Simon; that in a deep hidden part of her heart there was even a fondness for Claire.

Even though Nathan supported some of his weight, he was still heavy. He was also sweating the alcohol he had been consuming since early morning and parts of his shirt had gotten wet when Nathan miscalculated where his mouth was.

"He stinks," Claire said as the three of them stumbled out of the home office down the hall to the guest bedroom that was luckily situated in the first floor and had its own bathroom.

Once Nathan had been placed in the bathtub, Angela and Claire left Heidi to deal with giving him a bath.

"I haven't had to take my son into the bathroom in more than twenty years, and yet here we are now," Angela said as they exited the room and began their search for any possible beverage that Nathan could want to drink.

**Mohinder Suresh and Noah Bennet**

**Bennet Residence**

**Costa Verde, California**

There had been ninety six days of straight sunshine. Not one day in between when a few clouds blew in bringing with them some form of precipitation. Texas was not known for being a wet state, but never had there been almost a hundred days straight of sunshine. For lack of something to say, Noah Bennet would comment on this particular fact about where he had moved his family. Mohinder Suresh when hearing Noah's tidbit smiled.

"I find it refreshing," he said.

Noah countered with, "I need a change. Something to make the tedious days of actually working with paper go a little faster. Do you have anything on Peter Petrelli?"

Mohinder sighed. "Not a sign of him and no, I still don't think involving Molly, asking her to search for him, would be a good idea. Matt is very protective of her, and for that matter so am I. She's a little girl."

"With an ability that would make this process all the more easier," Noah said, knowing that he would never cease to push the subject. "She could tell us if this is futile. We could be wasting our time looking for a man that could be dead."

They had been arguing about this for weeks, every time they met to discuss any new developments. Peter was too powerful to just be forgotten if there was even the slight possibility that he was out there, especially since these two men knew that Peter was their only hope of ever getting rid of Sylar whom they also suspected was still alive.

A trail of blood leading away from Kirby Plaza had been found after the shock of seeing Peter blow up in the sky had passed. Noah and Mohinder had left the hospital while everyone else waited for word on how Matt Parkman and DL Hawkins was doing, to see if they could find his body, but there had been nothing, not even a clue as to how he had gotten away. Noah had suspected help, but they were drawing a blank as to who could possibly had helped Sylar get away and why they had done it.

"Molly is our last resort if these last few places don't lead us anywhere," Mohinder said. "I am still unsure if the virus is completely gone from her system and I have to question how she got it in the first place. I mean my sister had it, and there no other known cases, and then Molly. It must have come from somewhere and others could be infected."

Mohinder had been obsessing over the virus for the past four months with little in the way of answers or time to truly do as much research as he wanted to. Searching for Peter and Sylar and trying to figure out exactly what the company was up to, now that their plan to let Peter blow up half of New York had failed left him with little time to devote himself to it, not to mention that any time he was back home he had Molly to spend time with and Matt to deal with.

"What do you want to do, then, Mohinder?" Noah asked. "We agreed the company needed to be taken down. Peter would be instrument in that, and knowing where Sylar is would help with those matters as well."

The Indian man sighed. "I know, and yet I wonder if the company isn't behind it all. The virus, Peter's disappearance, Sylar's body going missing..."

"And what would the company have gained by exposing Molly to the virus? Your sister? There is no connection there. Another reason why using Molly would be the only way to find either one of them."

"No," Mohinder said, forcefully. "She is a little girl that should be allowed to be as normal as possible. This is as if I were asking you to let me use Claire for some experiment."

Noah nodded. "I know," he sighed, "we can try a few more weeks, but sooner or later she will be our only option."

**Bob and Elle Bishop**

**Trenton, New Jersey**

Bob Bishop had always known that running The Company was hard. That was the reason why when Arthur Petrelli had run it, he had delegated so much to Daniel Linderman; it was why Daniel Linderman had hired Thompson, and why now Bob had decided that he needed to be a part of every decision made by the company. He couldn't sit back and hope that his handpicked employees, however good, could make the sort of impact that The Company needed to head in the right direction since the half-brained scheme of letting Peter Petrelli destroy half of New York City.

So, as he strode down the long hallway of Level 2, where the more comfortable cells were situated, he contemplated where he himself had already gone wrong during his time as the head of The Company. His daughter next to him was quiet, and he was glad for once that she wasn't trying to excuse her mistakes.

It had begun when he put Peter next to Adam Monroe. He should have known better than to put anyone next to Adam, but Peter had never seemed one to be induced into action by Adam Monroe. But, Adam had always had a way with manipulating those he needed to do his bidding. Four hundred years of watching and learning how people operated had made him an expert at how to best get someone to see his side of the story, to follow him and become so indoctrinated by his ideas that they'd do anything he said. Bob doubted Peter had been so easily brainwashed, but Adam knew how to use the weakness of others. And so, now, they were both gone and the world was in more danger than ever before.

"What are we going to do, Daddy?" Elle's voice suddenly said.

"We will continue searching," Bob said. "Adam will be the harder one to catch, but more important than Peter. More than them being out there, it worries me that they might be in league together."

Elle opened her mouth to say something, probably a complaint or a wish to be more involved in the case, but before she could say anything a young man in his twenties ran towards them. He was one of the newer recruits and had become Bob's personal assistant rather than the field agent that he had originally been hired to do. He was better in an office environment anyway, seeing as the man was the clumsiest person that Bob had ever met.

"There was an urgent call from Wilde, said he thought he had spotted Monroe in New York. No sign of Petrelli, but we're still watching his apartment and the Petrelli homes."

Bob frowned. Peter had to be in New York as well. Somehow he must have contacted his family. It was the first place Peter would go. Peter and Nathan had always been close. There was no way Peter didn't go directly there to see them, and Adam being present in New York didn't fare too well, but maybe they could capture him.

"Elle, I hope you know you are heading into New York now," Bob said, and his daughter grinned.

"Yes, Daddy, and I'll bring him back."

"Make sure you do. Go on." Bob watched her go, as soon as she was far away he pulled out his cell phone to send out two more agents just in case Elle messed up again.

**Hiro Nakamura**

**Japan**

**1670**

Hiro Nakamura didn't remember ever being more scared for the future. Not when he had seen Isaac Mendez dead on the floor of his own loft and the human bomb went off, and not when he had met his future self and everyone else that had survived the bomb and realized what a terrible aftermath Peter exploding would leave behind. But knowing that he could have inadvertently already altered the course of future events just by being in feudal Japan was scarier than anything else. It wasn't even like he hadn't tried to leave, because he'd attempted to do it every hour with no success. It was as if something was preventing him from leaving. Ever the believer of fate and destiny, Hiro had come to the conclusion that he was there for a reason and something needed to be changed. The problem was that Hiro had no idea what he had to do.

After encountering the real Takezo Kensei and watching the man that had been paid to impersonate him run away, Hiro had lost all hope of ever putting history back to rights, especially since Takezo Kensei was an Englishman and he had a penchant for all sorts of things a noble hero shouldn't.

"Well, Carp," he said, using the nickname he'd decided fitted Hiro best, "I'm off to find something to drink. Take care of my horse, will you? That's a good lad. You don't know how glad I am to be able to speak English."

Hiro stared after the blond man that had dubbed himself Takezo Kensei wondering just how he had come to be the hero of legend. It didn't make sense. Hiro couldn't have broken history that badly. His very presence couldn't have made Takezo Kensei a drunk that didn't care about the promises he had made. Maybe he, Hiro, had always been meant to go back to 1670 and help this man claiming to be his hero become the man he was meant to be. And then, maybe, he could go home. First, however, Hero needed to help Yaeko and her father. Then, maybe, he could worry about making Kensei the man he needed to be, and getting back home where the world had hopefully been saved. And where Ando, he hoped, was still alive and well.

**Claire Bennet and Nathan Petrelli**

**Petrelli Mansion**

**Hyde Park, New York**

It had only been a week, but that had been enough time for Nathan to realize that sitting in his office and drinking his sorrows away was not going to accomplish anything else than to worry his family. So, a week after going off the alcohol, mostly due to the fact that Heidi had taken away his credit cards and for that matter the extra cash he kept in his wallet, Nathan had begun to see everything he'd done wrong in the past four months. Particularly when it concerned his daughter.

So, he'd spent time trying not to think about how he could deal with Claire, while he put his office to rights and made calls to figure out where he stood politically after giving up his position as Senator, not that he really had time to focus on his career if he wanted to first make sure he wouldn't fall to the temptation of tequila again.

A knock on his door brought him out of a long staring contest with Monty's school project, Rory the gerbil. Claire stepped inside a moment later and cautiously walked to the desk.

"Angela said you wanted to see me," she said softly and shifted her feet.

Nathan nodded, he pushed himself away from the desk and stood up. Claire watched him. "Come with me," he said extending his hand out towards her.

Claire walked in front of him. "Where are we going?"

"Out," Nathan replied, as if that answered the question perfectly.

He didn't want her to know that he planned on taking her flying, visit the Statue of Liberty, maybe the Empire State Building and explain to her that he did want her as a daughter and that he would try harder, now, to actually act the part of the father she had been searching for.

Nathan steered her out to the backyard. It was the classic American backyard, with the picket fences surrounding their property, the shed near one corner, the tree that had just recently regained its green leaves.

"What are we doing out here?" Claire turned, looking around, before facing him.

"Come here," Nathan said.

Claire frowned but stepped towards him, anyway, standing about a foot away. "Okay, now what?" She looked up at him and it was only then that Nathan realized how short Claire was compared to him.

"Now," he said, "we fly."

Claire gasped, and then she laughed. "Really?"

Other than Peter, Nathan had never had someone fly with him, but he knew it wasn't something impossible. He had seen Claire's reaction when Peter mentioned that he, Nathan, could fly. It had been fascination and excitement, although she had only said, "that's cool".

"I thought it was time we got to know each other. I should have...Peter..."

"I know," Claire said before he could continue to stumble with his words. "I understand. He was your brother. I didn't know him long, but even I was affected. I get it, but I hope you're getting better now. It wasn't fun watching you grow a beard."

Nathan reached up to stroke his chin. "I think I looked good," he said. "I mean, maybe not so much hair."

"No," Claire tilted her head. "I can't see it.

"Well, come on." Nathan opened his arms and Claire after a little hesitation stepped right into them, wrapping her own around his waist and lifting her head up to look at him.

Nathan winked, and then before she had knew it, took them into the air.

**Peter Pretrelli**

**Wandering Rocks Pub**

**Cork, Ireland**

To be quite truthful, Peter wanted to know desperately what the wooden box hiding away underneath the counter of the bar contained. He wanted to know his last name, if he had any family. A brother, a sister? Parents? He wanted to know if someone out there could be searching for him, and what he wanted to know more than anything else, was what exactly was wrong with him and why he could hear the thoughts of the people around him when he concentrated hard enough, why he could shoot out electricity from his hands and move things with his mind. He wanted to know where his strength came from, and why when he looked up at the sky, he longed to fly. But, as much as Peter wanted to know, the part of him that was frightened of finding out that he was some sort of alien or experiment escaped from some government facility, did not allow the curious part of Peter that wanted answers.

So, when given the option of opening the box that contained his old life, Peter had chosen the pretty Irish girl that had been the first person to truly be nice to him. Caitlin was a pretty little thing that looked as if she could be broken in two if Peter used even a fraction of his strength while holding her in his arms, but she was tough. Stubborn and sure of herself, Caitlin didn't allow herself to be bossed around by her brothers or the many drunks that passed by the pub daily. She was ready at the first sign of trouble, even, to grab the concealed gun and protect herself and her family's livelihood. Peter doubted he had ever met any other woman like her, even in his old life.

"Could you clear the table near the end, Peter?" Caitlin called to him from behind the bar, her Irish accent pronounced so that no one could doubt she was Irish.

"Sure," Peter threw her a smile and went to do as he was told.

He'd begun helping out at the bar a few weeks before, but when it had become quite clear that he couldn't mix a drink for his life, Peter had been put on cleaning up duty. He'd wipe the tables clean, sweep the floors, and sometimes drag the men that were getting just a bit too fresh out onto the street. It was easier in the morning and early afternoon when most people came in for food rather than a hard drink and Peter could actually help the customers without looking as if he knew next to nothing about what they were asking about. Sometimes thick accents threw him off and he'd have a hard time at getting their orders right, but all in all the work wasn't hard and Peter felt that he was earning his room and board above the pub where once rooms had been rented for those too drunk to go home. They were still used occasionally, but for the most part Peter resided alone.

Peter cleared the table quickly, and wiped it down just as fast, glad that whoever had sat there last had been considerate enough to not spill most of his or her drink all over the table.

"I think we'll stay for an hour or two," Caitlin said when he returned. She was handing a shot glass full of some amber liquid to a red haired man who Peter thought had already drank enough.

"Alright," Peter said and looked around.

There weren't that many people left now, just five. The red head that had just ordered the shot, two older women in a booth that drank straight up beer with crackers and were talking loudly about their grandchildren, the couple cuddling at another booth not drinking or eating anything.

"In fact, you can head on up, Peter, I don't think there'll be much more to do. I'll just close up in an hour."

Peter looked up. "I'll stay. It's nice to have some company. I won't if I go upstairs."

He had been standing by the bar, but not behind the counter, but now he walked around and went to her side. Their relationship was not complicated, if one ignored that he had no memory and he had been found handcuffed to a cargo box shirtless. Caitlin had been the first one to be nice to him, cleaning his face of the blood left behind. She had found out his secret, that he could do things most people could only dream of doing. And she respected Peter's wish to not look in the box once he had been allowed to have it. Caitlin had even, Peter thought, encouraged him to not look when he voiced his fears of finding out that he was a killer or something worse. Peter didn't want to admit it to himself, but he thought that Caitlin hadn't wanted him to open the box, period.

Now, he hugged her from behind. There was a feeling deep in his gut that told him that as good as it felt to have her in his arms, someone else belonged there. But this was his life now. He had chosen this, and he would squish the part of him that wanted, no, needed, to know who he had once been. He smiled into her hair and breathed in her scent. Apples. He sighed. He could be happy here if he let himself be.

**Author's note: **I've actually been told before that author notes at the bottom of the story are annoying, but I really do like them. You can explain things after the reader has read the chapter and isn't rushing to get to the chapter and ignore my ramblings. Anyway, I figured I should have pointed this out earlier, but I forgot. This is Paire and not the cesty kind because I just don't see the appeal of that, but I do like Paire. But where this does have a pairing, that in no way means that this story will not take true Heroes fashion and have a rather complicated story arc that does not involve just a romance part. I think the world of fanfiction in this particular fandom needs a bit of a mixture, and I've only found one other story that has done this. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it and I can't really think of anything I meant to address here, so if anyone has any questions, go ahead and ask them and I'll answer as best as I can.

Also, I wasn't sure where Adam was kept for those 30 years, and where Peter was put, so I decided New Jersey would fit the place. I didn't think it would be in Primatech, because Adam would have known that the virus was kept there, so wouldn't he have searched the place before leaving?

Please review, and let me know your thoughts.

-Erika


	2. Some Lies Some Truths

**Author's Note:** chapter 2. What can I say about it...this one brings up the images going through my head when I thought up this story, mostly found within the Angela parts of the story. I'm unsure about the chapter title, I couldn't really think of anything and I wish I had. hmmm...what else. Just, thanks to **Mags** and** Scifigeek10 **for reading and reviewing, hope you like this one. To everyone else, please let me know what you think, it encourages my writing...enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Heroes, Tim Kring and NBC do. I also do not own the large amount of characters that I've taken my liberty with playing with. I also do not own some of this plot...but just as I don't own all of it...I also do own some of it.

**Summary: **When Claire discovers that Nathan isn't her father, she travels to Ireland where she hopes to find some information as to where her real father is, she isn't expecting to run into an old friend she thought dead, even though Angela had had a vision...Where no one knows the heroes from the villans and mistakes from the past keep haunting them, what are our favorite heroes to do. At every turn they must deal with more problems. What does Adam have to do with this, and is he really the one behind the founders getting killed. What was that saying: "who diggeth a pit shall fall therein".

**Volume 2: Generations**

_**Chapter Two:**_

_**Some Lies...Some Truths**_

* * *

**Angela Petrelli**

**New York City**

Her gloved fingers held the piece of paper that changed everything. It had arrived that morning in a manila envelope, a single paper with not even a full page of writing. The letter had been simply addressed, Petrelli. No first name or specification as to which Petrelli it had been sent. No return address had been written and this was perhaps the thing that bothered Angela Petrelli more than anything else.

She smoothed the sheet out, but that did nothing to the creases that existed to mock her, her weakness. Angela sighed, folded it in three and stuffed it in this way back into the envelope. What use was a manila envelope anyway, for such a short letter. It could have been sent via e-mail that much simpler, or even in a text to a cell phone. Whoever had sent it, they had wanted this letter read, the information out for them to know and now Angela was faced with yet another hard decision. Her thin silver cell phone sat on her lap waiting for her decision. The blinking green light that told her it was on seemed to say she needed to do it quickly. Angela stared at it for a long time, and then she picked it up, flipped it open and for a long moment stared at the small screen. What would this decision do? Her family was broken enough as it was, did she really want to separate them now that they were finally acting like father and daughter only on the hunch that Claire might not be Nathan's daughter?

But she had to be. Angela had been there when the girl was born. She had held her, stared into those green eyes before handing her back to a nurse and going in to talk to Meredith to convince her that there was only one thing she could do now for her daughter and herself. The money Angela offered her would be enough so that they could live comfortably for the rest of their lives. Claire was her granddaughter. There was just no way that she couldn't be, unless Meredith had lied, but Angela had made sure the baby was Nathan's. A blood test had been ordered directly after the baby was born.

Angela continued to stare into her phone. She was being silly. Of course Claire was Nathan's daughter, just as Nathan was her son. This letter was meant to scare her, to make her do something that could break her family. No, it would be best to leave it be. Her family was happy and Angela did not want to jeopardize that more than it had already in the last four months. No, she would keep it to herself, and if it ever did become an issue, then they could deal with it, then, but for now, there had been no letter. Almost absentmindedly, Angela began to rip the letter apart, throwing them out of the window of her limousine. She watched them scatter, little fragments that would not be put together or destroy her family.

The limo stopped and Angela smiled at her driver. "Thank you," she said and stepped out, opening the door herself.

Peter's apartment building loomed ominously over her, waiting for her to move towards it and go inside, but she didn't want to.

Behind her she heard the limo leave and she sighed. They had all been ignoring his apartment, leaving it be until he came back. For the first month and most of the second that's what they had said. It was just left like Peter had left it so that when he came back nothing had been moved. Later it had been too painful, although she knew Nathan in one of his drunken stupors had ventured into his younger brother's home and gotten even drunker.

This time, going into even the apartment building was different. There was a finality to it. Peter's landlord had called just two days before in protestation of no one actually living in Peter's apartment despite the fact that the rent was still being paid for. Angela had tried to explain, but the moment the words, "he's dead" had come out, the landlord had given Angela the week to move all of her son's belongings out. So, now, that was what Angela was doing alone. Nathan and Claire had no idea that she was doing this and she had deliberately withheld the information. She wouldn't tell them for a few days, when she had packed his personal belongings and taken them to the mansion herself. The furniture and anything else that wasn't of use she was going to leave with the landlord, it was the best way to deal with these things.

"You going to move, Lady?" someone called, a man in overalls covered in paint.

Angela took a deep breath and stepped forward. She hadn't imagined it'd be this hard. She was supposed to be over his death already. It had always been a possibility. Without her knowledge tears began to trickle down her cheeks. It wasn't fair. Her favorite son. Her sweet, tender, loving Peter. The black sheep of the family in everything but stubbornness.

"Oh, Peter," she said when she finally made it to the apartment. It was there she finally broke down completely. Peter really was gone.

**Sylar**

**Trenton, New Jersey**

It was music to him, the ticking of a clock, when it was exactly on time, not a second behind or a second fast. It was a gentle noise, lulling in the way nothing else was. Clocks were simpler than people. They followed the same pattern for every hour, for every twelve hours and then began again. They were reliable. Clocks were also complicated and Gabriel Gray had always thought himself better than most people he met, because he knew what made them tick. But that part of his life had been long over. Even if he wanted to go back to being Gabriel Gray, the watch repairman, it wouldn't be possible for him.

When Sylar woke, that morning for the first time since he was stabbed by Hiro Nakamura at Kirby Plaza, the first thing he heard was the ticking of a clock perfectly in synch. He listened for a while, and when a whole minute had gone by, Sylar opened his eyes to find himself in a while sterile room lying on a hospital bed with white sheets. Everything in the room was white. The bed, the walls, the ceiling, the floor, even he was almost as white as the room. Only the stab wound had a different color, the red of blood that had at some point escaped, stained the white bandage he could just make out through the sheets. A woman in full white entering the room interrupted his musing and gasped at seeing him awake, before she rushed forward.

The woman said nothing. She checked him over, looked at all his vitals and pulled out a chart on which she wrote a lot down. Then she was gone as quickly as she had come, and not two minutes later two men entered the room. One of them was obviously a doctor, but the other, a bald man with glasses that stood behind the other man, watching him closely had to be the reason that Sylar was alive, for surely he would have died if he hadn't gotten whatever treatment they had given him.

"He's doing well," the doctor said.

He was an older man, Sylar thought perhaps too old to still be practicing medicine. He wore the cliché lab coat and had the thickest pair of glasses he had ever seen. Unlike the man that wasn't a doctor, he had hair, gray and down to his shoulders. This man's name was printed on his lab coat. Dr. Zimmerman, it read.

"Good," the other man said. "Full recovery?"

"Yes," Zimmerman said, "two more weeks, and then he'll be as good as new."

"Thank you. You can leave now."

Once Zimmerman was gone, the man left behind came closer, standing right at Sylar's bedside.

"We haven't met before, Mr. Gray," he said. "My name is Bob Bishop. It was under my instructions that you were rescued. Of course Candace did think to call me, so you must thank her, but for now we must talk about why you are here."

Sylar pushed himself up with as much strength as he could must and sat up. Bob smiled.

"And why is that exactly?"

"Mr. Gray, you have an ability. An ability that has never been encountered before. To know how things work. To know what makes a person have a certain ability. It is something that we have researched for years. The ability to take on another power, it might very well lead us in the direction of being able to rid someone of the more dangerous powers. And that is our goal, a cure."

Sylar frowned. They could easily say that his ability was a dangerous one. Wasn't he cutting others' heads open to figure out their abilities? How was that any different from that man that could exude nuclear power? Did they want to use him as their lab rat to test all of this on him, while also gaining his knowledge. Grateful though he was at having been saved from certain death, Sylar did not work well with others, he never had, and he wasn't looking to start. No, the moment he was well enough he would escape, but for now he could go along with them. No use in alerting them of his plans.

"A cure, well that sounds interesting," he said and tried to sound as if the entire topic did interest him.

Bob smiled. Sylar turned away for a moment with the pretense of a coming sneeze and smirked, not being able to keep it off his lips for long. Bob Bishop wouldn't know what hit him.

**Claire Bennet, Nathan and Heidi Petrelli**

**Petrelli Mansion**

**Hyde Park, New York**

Heidi had tried to understand, when Nathan had first rambled on and on about being able to fly and Peter exploding and whatever else about people with special powers once he had woken up in the hospital. She had tried to believe that maybe he wasn't crazy and there really was something going on. After all, somehow she had regained the ability to walk, and during that particular accident she faintly remembered Nathan just being gone. For a long time she had blamed it on shock, a dream she had while she was unconscious, but from the moment Nathan mentioned that he could fly she had considered that maybe, for once, he was telling the truth, as farfetched as it all was.

Yet, when Angela stepped in and explained why Nathan claimed to be able to fly and that all of his delusions came from some sort of depression that had been passed down from his father, Heidi had been ready to believe it. Believing that her husband wasn't able to fly was better than to think that he could and that, that was the reason she was visiting him in the hospital and looking at his half-burned face. So, she'd nodded and told Angela that she wouldn't let anyone in on the secret and she had stood by her husband as he got better.

It was only after he had gotten healed that she once more questioned if Nathan was telling the truth, especially when he arrived home, refused to speak of any of it again and he holed himself up in his office. Heidi had always known there was a close bond between Nathan and Peter but his grief for his brother had not manifested itself while he was on the hospital. The moment he arrived home, however, Peter was his only focus, and that remained so even when Angela brought Claire home and explained to Heidi that Claire was Nathan's illegitimate daughter.

"Nathan's folly in Texas," Angela had said. "It wasn't good for his career, of course, so his father and I sent her away. The mother, that is. When Claire was almost two, there was a fire and everyone thought that she and her mother died, including Nathan. It was a surprise to everyone when she was suddenly back. Her mother's alive also, but she's always had a fondness for money. Claire didn't grow up with her. She was adopted by a nice family, but she wishes to know her father."

Heidi had not had the heart to deny the girl a place at her home. She was her stepdaughter and while Nathan ignored her for his drink, Heidi took the young girl under her wing. She had always wanted a daughter, and she watched Claire flourish in their household all while maintaining her grief for the uncle that had accepted her readily in his life. No one had told Heidi how it was that Peter and Claire knew enough other, much less how Claire had come to care so much about him.

Heidi had watched them, Nathan and Claire, in the weeks that followed Nathan becoming sober and he had seen the slow building of a relationship. At night when she was in bed with Nathan, she had even brought up Claire as a subject of conversation and been surprised to see love shinning in Nathan's eyes for the girl he had truly gotten to know in the past two weeks.

Allowing them their bonding time had been crucial, but now that Nathan and Claire saw eye to eye, Heidi had arranged an outing just the three of them while Monty and Simon were at a friend's house.

"It's a lovely restaurant. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself," Heidi said to Claire from the front seat of Nathan's car.

Claire grinned. "I'm sure I will. I mean, there's food."

Easy banter was exchanged between the three and Heidi couldn't help but feel that this would be exactly how having a daughter would have felt like.

"I really am glad you decided to stay in New York, Claire," Nathan said suddenly as they stopped behind a taxi at a red light. "Especially after everything. Thank you for giving me another chance. I don't think I've said this enough."

"You're my dad," Claire said. "I needed to get to know you. My...adoptive parents. They're great, but I haven't really fit in with them in a while."

There were little things said here or there in conversation. Thoughts that could be ignored and just be part of normal conversation. Things that Nathan or Claire, or even on occasion Angela said that were normal and could have been ignored had deeper meanings. Heidi had seen the looks they shared and the guilty expressions they got as if they were letting out some major secret that shouldn't have even been talked about out loud, much less hint towards it.

Heidi wanted to ignore it. She wanted to forget that there were moments when Nathan's explanations made perfect sense. She wanted to believe that nothing of what her husband had said could possibly be real, but then it happened.

They were halfway through dinner, when Nathan sitting next to Claire in the booth they had been given despite their small party, reached for the salt and in the process sent Claire's knife flying into the air and right into her right hand, point first.

"Ow," was all she said, as if it were only a papercut.

She and Nathan exchanged looks and then her hand and the knife were hidden under the table before anyone else could notice it had happened. A few minutes later, Claire had knife back on the table and she was cleaning it with both hands as if nothing had happened. It was then Heidi knew for sure that he was telling the truth, because he had yelled something about the cheerleader that could regenerate when she was leaving the hospital after her third visit. Now she knew that yes, indeed, the cheerleader could regenerate.

"We can explain..." Nathan began

Claire cut him off, "There's something you have to know about us...about me, Nathan, Peter...even Angela...and my mom..."

Nathan made to interrupt, but before he could, Claire shook her head at him. "We've talked about this. You said you wanted her to know."

Nathan nodded, and then they began their fantastic tale. Heidi couldn't help but notice as they related how Peter had gone to Texas knowing that he was going to die, to save Claire, how the emotion in their eyes grew as they recalled the man they had both lost, but also how much comfort they offered each other over their loss.

"...he asked me to shoot him," Claire said. Her voice shook. "I couldn't do it. I knew he'd come back, but to kill him..."

Nathan took her hand and nodded for her to continue.

"He was ready to explode, and he would have taken everyone with him, but then at the last possible second-" Claire looked towards Nathan "-dad showed up and he flew Peter away from everyone at a high enough distance so that he wouldn't harm anyone, putting himself at risk."

Heidi gasped. Two parts of her argued with each other wanting to get out. Anger at Nathan for putting himself in so much danger. Pride that her husband had saved New York even if he did put his own life in danger.

"So...what happened...how are you here, alright?"

Nathan smiled sadly. "Peter," he said. "I flew him as high as I could. It was far enough away that it wouldn't hurt anyone, but he had no control of his powers. He couldn't keep himself up there, not for long. At least, I didn't think so, but then right before he exploded he pushed me away, hard. I remember seeing him glow red as I was falling. It's all fuzzy, but the next thing I remember is being in the hospital and mom was there. For a long time I thought it had been Peter. That he regenerated and stopped me from falling and brought me to the hospital. I never did find out how I got there, but I guess that isn't possible. He would have stayed, wouldn't he?"

Claire and Heidi each took one of Nathan's hands and he smiled sadly at them. They gave Peter a moment of silence, and then ordered their food with the youngest Petrelli brother still on their minds.

**Matt Parkman and Mohinder Suresh**

**Isaac's Loft**

**New York**

"I was approached by a man from The Company the other day," Mohinder said, startling Matt from where he had been looking at a picture of Peter Petrelli jumping off a building.

"What?" Matt asked. "But you don't have any powers. What did he want?"

Matt regarded Mohinder curiously, waiting for him to say something, to admit that he and Noah Bennet had planned it out this way, that they wanted someone to approach him and offer him a job.

When he had woken up in the hospital, two days after Sylar pushed four bullets through his chest, Matt had been in pain. His body ached in almost every place, and a headache was present almost as soon as he came to consciousness with all the thoughts that flooded in. Out of all those thoughts, he had managed to hear a string of them that belonged to Mohinder.

_Get into the company. Virus. Noah Bennet. Destroy. Linderman dead._

He had been so focused on getting himself out of the hospital, and making sure that he got word to his wife on his whereabouts, and then later trying to explain to Janice that he was going to be okay, that focusing on what Mohinder was up to had not been a priority. And then, Janice had been there with tears in her eyes as she looked at him and his wife had become his sole focus. Comforting the pregnant woman that was close to breaking point had been the only thing on his mind. Matt had forgotten to pay attention to Mohinder, or the fact that he and Noah Bennet were often together. And then, there had been Molly. She had been staying with the Sanders after the explosion seeing as they too had gone to the hospital, but every time she visited she had already asked Matt if she could live with him.

Once fully recovered, Matt hadn't had time to deal with Mohinder, and hadn't even thought about what he and Noah could be up to farther than to make the arrangements for Molly to go with him and Janice back to L.A.

Now, he was back in New York with Molly and living in Mohinder's apartment until he found a place of his own. It had been the first place he had thought to go after Janice told him that the baby wasn't his. For a long time he hadn't wanted to believe it, but even her thoughts hadn't contracted him, so he'd gone back to the place where he was shot and where so many people like him had remained. He had even heard recently that Nikki Sanders and her son were moving to New York.

When Mohinder had asked him to go to Issac's loft, where Matt had seen the paintings back before the explosion, he hadn't declined and instead asked what it was that Mohinder wanted him there for, and now he knew.

The loft was being turned into some scientific lab, which was exactly what Mohinder needed. There was no one working on it now, but Matt could see that with a few more days of work, it would be ready for him.

"What are you supposed to do here?" Matt asked.

"Research on the virus. The one Molly had. Bob Bishop, that's the man that approached me, he said they'd found another case. Some man in Haiti. They're worried that it's spreading. My blood saved Molly. If there are other people out there with his virus, then I can save them too. I can figure out how it is that they've become infected with it and what I can do to rid of it completely. I could only imagine what this would do if it got out to the whole world. Currently it only attacks those with powers, but what if it got out to the rest of the population? It'd be like the Spanish Influenza. Worse, I think."

Matt watched and wondered what he was really up to. Mohinder couldn't be that great an actor. Maybe he was worried about the virus and he did need The Company to really work on figuring out more about it. Yet, there was something nagging in the back of Matt's head that said the virus was not the only reason Mohinder had taken The Company's offer.

"Why am I here then?" Matt asked.

"I just wanted you to see it. I was excited, I admit. I also wanted to ask for a sample of your blood. I want to see how the virus will affect your blood in a tested experiment in comparison to someone without powers. I don't want to use Molly, and I'm not in a position to get blood from anyone else."

Matt sighed, but then nodded, wondering if this was the right thing to do when technically his blood would be going to The Company and Matt would never forgive what The Company had done to him. Mohinder was treading in treacherous water, but Matt would watch and wait for when he got himself in too deep, and then he would act.

**Angela Petrelli **

**New York City**

Her dreams came in flashes. Pictures and symbols that could have any meaning to them. They had never been straightforward, although sometimes - and those were rare times - they were. When she fell asleep in her limo, on her way to the Kirby Plaza offices of The Company, Angela didn't expect to have a dream which would quite literally come true.

Claire was walking down a cobbled street, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. She looked at the paper from time to time, frowning at it and the shops and pubs around her, until she spotted it. Wandering Rocks pub.

Angela had learnt to analyze her dreams as they happened, and now, watching her granddaughter head into an Irish pub, she couldn't help but wonder why Claire was there in the first place and what this dream could mean. Was she supposed to stop Claire? Encourage it?

Claire took a deep breath and then she entered the pub. Angela went with her. Inside it was dimly lit and rustic. It was a quaint place that had retained the charm of the pubs of old, but despite the welcoming atmosphere, it was quite empty. A young woman with curly black hair was cleaning behind the bar and Claire approached her.

"I'm looking for a man named Adam Monroe," Claire said. "I was told I'd find someone here that could tell me where to find him."

Angela gasped. Adam Monroe. It couldn't be. Claire couldn't know about him. She couldn't be searching for him. And what did it mean that Claire was in Ireland looking for him when Adam was locked up in the New Jersey facility.

"Haven't heard o' him," the young woman said. " 'course you could be looking for my brother, and he might know something. I'll be back."

Claire stood at the bar for a while and then three sets of footsteps approached. She didn't turn to look, and waited until they were before her. The girl was back with what looked to be her brother, and behind him stood another figure she couldn't make out.

"Who are you looking for?" The brother said.

"Adam Monroe. He's...well...he's my father."

Angela gasped again. Her father. But that couldn't be. Adam had been locked up for thirty years. When could he have fathered a child? It all went back to the letter she had destroyed earlier in the week. Someone was trying to break her family apart again, and they were trying to do it through Claire, telling her that Nathan wasn't her father.

"I didn't know until a few weeks ago, and a man that used to work with him said that he was here, that if I didn't find him here there would be someone that could tell me where to find him."

The brother and sister shared a glance. "I don't think we could help you," the girl said. "We haven't heard of an Adam Monroe."

The person that had been standing behind the brother spoke up then, the sound of his voice perhaps shocking her more than what he said, "I know Adam Monroe." Because the person that spoke was Peter Petrelli and as she saw him again since that night at Kirbi Plaza, Claire felt herself sway. She had never fainted before, and she had never thought it possible for her to faint, but as her legs gave out her eyes were locked with Peters.

Angela Petrelli did not fare any better. The shock of her son alive in some pub in Ireland and Claire finding him had rendered her speechless but not without thoughts. What did the future hold? Why did Peter know who Adam Monroe was? Was he Claire's father? Why hadn't Peter come home?

She woke up as the Limo came to a stop. She smiled as the driver opened her door, even though she had been shaken by the dream. Did she stop it? Did she let it happen? How was it even going to happen?

Angela stepped inside and went directly to the man standing in the hallway right outside the elevators. She smiled at him and brought out her ID card, asking at the same time, "Where would I find Bob Bishop?" After all, Angela Petrelli had not gone to The Company for close to sixteen years.

**Author's Note: **I know it's been done before. The whole Adam Monroe being Claire's father thing because of their similar abilities, but I hope to take this in a different way than those...and just because Claire within a vision believes that does not make it so...isn't that the rule with Heroes...everything can change with time...so...speculate...speculate. I'd love you forever if you left a review and hope you enjoyed it. I'll update as soon as I can.

-Erika


	3. When Ignorance Could Still Be Bliss

**Author's Note:** I've been meaning to post this one since last weekend, but I've been kept busy by school. I have never hated essays more than I hate them now. I think it's just the class (women in literature) which you know I expected to cover Jane Austen, the Brontes...perhaps some hardships for women authors, some Virginia Woolf...that type of thing which is totally up my alley, but instead my professor has taken a rather feminist view on it, so that we're reading all these books about women from different cultures going through things like Apartheid, or the partition in India...so, yeah, interesting stuff, but I wasn't looking for a class on culture and politics. So, sorry to bore you guys with a rant about a class that was described as something I would find interesting but was a complete disappointment. I'm just tired of writing the same essay over and over again and quoting different books...none of which I'm enjoying. When asked what have I gotten out of this class: That I will learn to choose my classes more wisely and that women that consider themselves feminists should consider getting a life. Women got the right to vote in the 1920's. I think we have all the rights we need.

Now, on to the story...you are all free to ignore my above rant. I've just felt particularly annoyed by that class lately. Anyhow, ch. 3. I really like this one, because this is the chapter where everything started to make sense. I always have a chapter like this somewhere in the story. And part of the reason why i haven't updated and put this up until now was that this was the chapter that told me in what direction this story was headed. And once I started writing ch. 5 I knew where I was going and this one could officially be finished. I finally bring in a few characters that have not made their apperances yet...and some setting up of the plot happens. So enjoy. Oh, and once again, the chapter title is still in need of some work. I've just been terrible at titles lately...and yet I feel that I must have them...

Thanks again to everyone that took the time to read this, that put this story on alert, or favorites, and of course thank you to those that reviewed. I just feel like I should acknowledge you guys...so thanks to: mags, TJtrack99, Smita, and asela22. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Heroes, Tim Kring and NBC do. I also do not own the large amount of characters that I've taken my liberty with playing with. I also do not own some of this plot...but just as I don't own all of it...I also do own some of it.

**Summary: **When Claire discovers that Nathan isn't her father, she travels to Ireland where she hopes to find some information as to where her real father is, she isn't expecting to run into an old friend she thought dead, even though Angela had had a vision...Where no one knows the heroes from the villans and mistakes from the past keep haunting them, what are our favorite heroes to do. At every turn they must deal with more problems. What does Adam have to do with this, and is he really the one behind the founders getting killed. What was that saying: "who diggeth a pit shall fall therein".

**Volume 2: Generations**

_**Chapter Three:**_

**Where Ignorance Could Still Be Seen As Bliss**

* * *

**Angela Petrelli and Bob Bishop**

**Kirby Plaza**

**New York City**

Bob hadn't expected her. Angela Petrelli had always been one of the big players in the forming of The Company. She had been there right from the start with him, Daniel Linderman, and Charles Deveaux. Some would say she had even been the one with the idea in the first place.

Angela had always held a powerful place in The Company's hierarchy, and they had all known it. How else had she gotten her husband such a large role in something he hadn't been involved in from the beginning? After all, Bob who had been involved had never had such an important role, other than financially. Maybe he hadn't been smart enough. Not like Victoria was, and she too had been a friend of Angela's first and foremost. And then there had been Kaito. For a long time Bob had suspected Angela and Kaito of having had a deeper relationship than they let on. No wonder had gotten to head the Company for so long without a question of his authority.

And it was Angela, too, that had found Adam Monroe and brought him into their fold as their group was growing. She and Linderman had always been avid fans of the man that would live forever. They had always seen him as the god that he wanted to portray, before realizing that he was wrong and taking him down just as easily as they had put him in his pedestal.

Although to be truthful, Bob had always followed Adam as well, and he had been one of the ones that argued against locking him up. It had all been Kaito and Angela. They had been the ones to order him locked away before telling everyone else, and then they had asked the others if they agreed with what they wanted to do. Telling them all after they had voted that it had already been done.

Now, Angela was in his office, sitting primly, her legs crossed and her hands resting on her lap. She looked as regal as ever and Bob felt as if the real person in control of the Company was before him.

"Bob," she said when he entered and smiled a smile only bestowed upon old friends. She extended her hand out to him.

"Angela, I was surprised to hear you had come see me," Bob said and pressed a kiss to the top of her hand.

"I felt it was time to check in with my old friend," Angela said. "The two of us are the only ones left of the original crowd. I also needed to see the place where my son died, Bob." When she said this she shot him with a piercing look. "A mother's sentimentality. It is ironic that we saw this coming so long ago and it turned out differently that we expected, and here of all places."

"I seem to remember that I was never considered a big player in The Company. I only financed everything we did," Bob said.

Angela smiled a tight smile. "We needed you, Bob, you know that. And now you are at the head, aren't you? What did you tell the cops about what happened that night? It must have been good."

Bob shrugged. "One of our old excuses."

They were silent for a while, Angela examining the office that had once belonged to Kaito Nakamura before it was her husband's and then later Daniel Linderman's.

"I had a dream, Bob," Angela said, and Bob felt that finally she had reached what she had come all this way for. "Now, I need you to answer me: What did you do with my son? And where is Adam Monroe?"

Bob's eyes widened. "What? Angela, your son? Adam is in custody, as he's always been. And I was under the impression Nathan was at home, or perhaps he's gotten back on his feet."

"I want to see Adam," Angela said and watched him closely.

Bob shifted in the chair he had taken and stood up. He sighed, turned away from her to his window, then back to face her. "He escaped about two weeks ago. I didn't see a need to tell you," he said. "I've had everyone looking. We don't even know if he's after anything other than his freedom. You haven't been interested in The Company's goings on since Arthur..."

"How did he do it?" Angela cut him off, getting to her feet.

Bob gulped. "Well, you see..."

Angela walked closer. "What happened, Bob? I can see you're nervous about something. What aren't you telling me?"

"Your son...your son helped him escape," Bob said.

"And what," Angela asked, "could my son have gained from that? What did you do?"

And this, Bob thought, was why Angela had always been in charge. Because they all feared her and respected her.

**Peter Petrelli**

**Wandering Rocks Pub**

**Cork, Ireland**

Every day there was a new power. He'd be eating his breakfast and suddenly he could move his cup from one side of the table to another without telling it to do so. The door to his room above the pub would get stuck and he would just phase right through it without even realizing that was doing so. Sometimes he thought he could hear what everyone around him was thinking, other times everything was silent. He had cut his hand just the other night and Caitlin had taken his hand and run it underwater, and yet the cut had simply vanished. There hadn't even been that much pain. Once, he had turned invisible, although he hadn't been able to do that again since then. Another time, he had broken a chair with just his hands. And one morning his foot had hovered before it hit the floor.

Just how much could he do? And why? His resolution to be ordinary and live the life he had been left with in Ireland with Caitlin and her brother was slowly breaking apart and Peter thought that one day he would snap if he didn't know who he was. He didn't even know his last name. He was just Peter.

"Want to go out into town? Ricky can handle the pub today. I figured it'd be nice to just wander," Caitlin said, entering the backroom of the pub where Peter had been sitting.

"Sure," Peter said and stood. "I haven't seen enough of Ireland."

Peter and Caitlin had walked around Cork before, and Peter had commented on the beauty of the place. It had an old quality feel to it, and yet it was quite modern. Peter had been particularly impressed by the natural harbor.

"We can go down to the English market," Caitlin said. "I don't think I took you there last time. We just went to the beach and St. Mary's."

Peter nodded, not really listening. He didn't really care what they did, as long as he could get his mind away from his powers and the curiosity that was slowly eating up at him. No one could blame him for wanting to know who he was even if what he found out wasn't to his liking. He had a choice as to who he wanted to be, and making that choice without first knowing what he was giving up was wrong. Peter wanted at that moment, to just run to where the box was kept behind the bar and open it, but he restrained himself. He could do that later, when he and Caitlin returned. He could let himself enjoy not knowing for a few hours before he opened it.

**Nikki and Micah Sanders**

**Las Vegas, Nevada**

"Micah, we have to go," Nikki said. "I promise we'll come back. Any time you want to see him. We'll come back."

It was hard to keep herself strong and not break down and cry over his grave. But Micah couldn't see her that way. Micah needed to see the strong side of Nikki so that he would stay strong. Making the decision to leave the place that had given them so many problems and lead to so much heartbreak had been hard to make, but it was one that Nikki had felt needed to be made. This way they could move on. D.L. was dead, and nothing was going to bring him back, and she and Micah needed somewhere to have a new beginning.

After Kirby Plaza they had talked about staying in New York, but in the end decided to move back to Las Vegas and continue their lives there, but now that D.L. was gone, Nikki saw no reason to continue living there and so, she and Micah were going to New York. Nikki had already found an apartment and put down a security installment and paid for the first month. She had applied at a few different restaurants and Micah had gotten a scholarship for a private school that Claire had suggested when Nikki had called to tell her they were moving to New York.

She and Claire had exchanged contact information while in the hospital waiting to hear about Matt Parkman and D.L. and they had kept in contact through e-mails and phone calls at least once a week. Nikki had called her immediately to tell her they were moving to New York and Claire had been the one to find the apartment and talk to the landlord, she had also been the one to get her the applications for a number of different places near the apartment, and she had gotten everything there was to know about the private school that Monty and Simon attended.

So, Nikki was as ready as ever to leave Vegas behind and start her new life. Micah had been excited at first, but now the prospect of leaving his father's grave behind, had made him rethink the new life Nikki wanted them to have.

"We'll come back, baby," Nikki assured him. "Now, come on, we have to get going."

Micah shed a few more tears, dropped the flowers next to the grave and ran to his mom's side, burying his head on her side. She wrapped an arm around him and they walked to the car, ready to take their new path in life.

**Claire Bennet**

**Petrelli Mansion**

**Hyde Park, New York**

Claire still wasn't used to Nathan's limo picking her up after school even though that had been going on for months. She was less used to going to Monty and Simon's school after and having them rush into the car and excitedly tell her about their day. She didn't know when Monty and Simon had become so fond of her, but they had and Claire absolutely loved having them as brothers. Lyle had been one thing, but Simon and Monty were something else entirely. They were actually excited to have her be their sister and wanted to spend time with her. Not because they wanted to tease her or borrow her things. They just genuinely liked to have her attention. They had never had someone older that wasn't their parents, uncle, or grandmother, someone that was on their level to hang out with and so they clung to Claire. She smiled at memories from earlier that day.

"Claire!" Monty exclaimed when he entered the car and dropped his backpack on the seat.

"Hey, Monty, where's Simon?"

Monty shrugged. "Talking to some girl. He told me to just come to the car."

Claire grinned. "Simon has a girlfriend?" She asked. "What's her name, do you know?"

Monty laughed at her interest. "Not sure. I've never seen her before. She was very pretty though."

"Well, we'll soon find out and we can tease him all we want. How was your day at school?"

Monty grinned at her and moved to sit next to her. "Uneventful," he replied. "My teacher was absent, so we had a substitute and basically did nothing. Tom was sent to the headmaster's office, thought. He thought it'd be funny to put something in Nancy's chair."

Monty continued on about the happenings of his day until Simon appeared and took a seat opposite them. He was smiling and when he dropped his own backpack, he realized that the car wasn't moving quite yet and that Claire and Monty were staring at him.

"What's her name?" Claire asked while Monty grinned.

Simon blushed and didn't answer. He looked out the window as the car began to move.

"Come on, Simon, you have to tell us," Monty said.

"I could give you advice," Claire offered, "but only if you tell us about her."

Simon stared at her as if considering it. "Maybe later," he finally settled on.

When the three of them arrived at the mansion, they were surprised to find Nathan there, as he had of recently began working again and was spending more and more time at the office. Heidi on the other hand was usually there to greet them with snacks and questions about their day.

Monty and Simon ran to their father and hugged him at the same time. He laughed and hugged them back. "Go, on boys, your mother has cookies in the kitchen."

The two grinned, dropped their bags and ran down the hall, ignoring Heidi's call for them to not run in the hall.

"Claire," Nathan said and opened his arms.

She smiled and hugged him, but he didn't let her go as quickly as Monty and Simon, instead he kept an arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the kitchen.

Heidi had Monty and Simon sitting at the island with a plate of homemade cookies and milk. She was wearing an apron and bending over the oven to retrieve another tray of cookies.

"Hello, Claire," she threw over her shoulder. "Have a good day?"

"Yeah," Claire said. "So why are you home?" She directed at Nathan.

"Can't I spend some time with my family?"

"Well sure, but I thought you needed to spend as much time as you could getting your political image back up to par. So, what's the real reason?" Claire looked up at him with an eyebrow lifted and he sighed.

"Well, your grandmother asked me to be home at this time, and I've learnt the hard way there is no saying no that woman, so here we all are waiting for her to get home so she can have this serious family meeting with us. Nothing to worry about, I gather, seeing as she herself is late."

Claire rolled her eyes. That was typical Angela. But Claire had learned to accept everything about the Petrellis in the past few months. From Angela wanting to control everything and everyone around her, to Nathan's often too pragmatic nature and his need to have things go his way. She had gotten used to knowing that Heidi was the only Petrelli, now that Peter was gone, that was not interested in politics and that Monty and Simon were great younger brothers. They had had a family meeting only once before, and that hadn't included Nathan as it was to discuss how they would rid Nathan of his drinking habit. Now that she didn't know what kind of problem could be ahead, Claire was worried about the topic of their meeting, especially if it was Angela that was bringing it up.

When Angela finally stepped into the kitchen, she wore a shocked look on her face and for a moment Claire thought that perhaps Angela had forgotten she had called a family meeting.

"Good, you're here," she said, and then added, "the sitting room might be best for this." She and Nathan shared a look before she walked out of the kitchen.

"Monty, Simon, why don't you head on up to your game room. You can take your milk and cookies up there," Heidi said catching Nathan's eye.

Simon and Monty grabbed their milk and cookies and walked quickly but carefully out of the room, happy to not have to stick around the kitchen.

"I received a letter," Angela said once they were all seated, "Well, no...there was a letter last week, it came in a manila envelope and was addressed to Petrelli. No first name. Nothing of the kind, so I opened it." She paused as if offering any of them time to announce that it was their letter. No one did. "In this letter I found just a short message. A worrisome, message. So, instead of admitting that it might have something to do with us, and that it might be telling the truth, I ignored it. But now, I think that perhaps it is something that we need to look into."

"What did the letter say?" Heidi asked.

Angela smiled sadly. "It said," she paused and looked at Claire, before her eyes shifted to Nathan. "It claimed that Claire was not your daughter, Nathan," she finally said and closed her eyes.

Nathan gasped and for a moment he floundered and his eyes searched the room for something. "No...it can't be. Meredith said. No." He was shaking his head in denial, and then he stood up.

He paced the room for a moment, and his eyes kept shifting to where the liquor had been previously kept.

"I don't want to believe it either," Angela said and reached to take Claire's hand. "I am as fond of the girl as you are. I've always looked out for her, my granddaughter, and to learn that it might not be true kills me, but if this claim is correct we need to know."

Throughout all of it, Claire had been silent, even when Angela had taken her hand. Her entire blood ran cold. It couldn't be. She had to be Nathan's daughter, just had to be. She had just gotten used to the family. No, she belonged here with them. Once, she would have given everything to not be related to them. This was when she had first found out that Peter was her uncle, when the crush she had had on her hero had meant more than the father that wanted nothing to do with her and the grandmother that wanted to take her to France to get her out of the way. She hadn't wanted to be a part of a family that wanted to hide her out like their dirty little secret and she had wanted to be able to have a relationship with Peter. The crush had died down to some extent since Peter's death and once Claire spent more time with the other members of her family. And now, Nathan could possibly not be her father and Peter wasn't even alive for there to be any silver lining.

"I'll always be your father, Claire," Nathan was saying, and Claire was surprised to find him kneeling right in front of her. "No matter what I will always think of you as my daughter. This is a formality, so that we know if you are a Petrelli or not, in blood that is. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

Claire sighed and nodded. "Alright," she said eventually, resigned. "I guess a blood test is in order now?"

Nathan nodded, but he did it with reluctance. Neither Claire or Nathan could explain the disappointment that had filled them even without knowing if they were related or not. They had only just got to know each other and yet there was a bond there that had begun to be ripped apart at this revelation.

"When should we do it?"

"As soon as possible," Angela said. "I've already had an appointment made for five o'clock. An hour from now."

**Hiro Nakamura and Takezo Kensei**

**Japan**

**1760**

Hiro missed Ando. He missed his best friend desperately and wanted nothing more than to go back to the future where he could drag Ando to a place where they sold waffles and they could discuss how disappointing Hiro's hero had actually been. Hiro raised his head to look towards Kensei who sat slumped against a tree, drunk. How was he supposed to turn him into a hero? There was no doubt that Kensei was brave, bold, and sure of himself, but none of this if not instilled with some sense of what was right and wrong, of honor and nobleness would make for the hero that Hiro's father had read to him about.

Already, Kensei had let Whitebeard take Otsu and that had definitely not been in the story. Kensei was supposed to have saved the small village, stop Whitebeard and in the aftermath fall in love with the sword smith's daughter, Yaeko, who Hiro was sure hated and despised Kensei above anyone else. And now she was off to save her father and Hiro was positive that she would not accomplish her task and die in the process, all the while Kensei slept under a tree. But, maybe, if he pretended to be Kensei.

**Ando Masahashi and Kaito Nakamura**

**Kirby Plaza**

**New York City**

Ando hadn't been sure, when Hiro's father had approached him a few weeks after Hiro had left him in his cubicle at Yamagato, what to make of Kaito's offer to work for him in the offices in New York. Ando hadn't questioned the elder Nakamura's decision to work from the New York offices in the prospect of being in New York when Hiro returned from wherever he had been lost in time. He had been in New York long enough to meet Matt Parkman and Mohinder Suresh who had filled Ando in on what had happened the night Hiro disappeared. But he had gone back to Japan when it was clear no one knew where Hiro might be. So, when Mr. Nakamura had offered Ando a job in New York he had taken it.

So, now four months since he had arrived in New York with Kaito Nakamura, Ando was rushing down a long hall with Mr. Nakamura's coffee. The office in question was the farthest one on the floor, and with everyone rushing around him, Ando walked as quickly as he could without running into anyone.

He entered the office without knocking and set the coffee down on the desk. Kaito was turned towards the window, and he turned as Ando made to leave the office.

"Has there been anything?" Kaito asked in Japanese.

Ando shook his head. "No. He's been gone like this before. Last time it wasn't for so long, but he'll be back. We just have to wait."

Kaito sighed and opened his newspaper. "He is very capable," he said. "I did not imagine when he was a child that he could become someone of great importance. Of course, now, I wish I had..." he trailed off.

Ando who had been standing by the door, walked back to the desk. "What is it?"

Kaito held up a square picture that had been obviously ripped from another larger picture. In it, Kaito looked just a few years younger and he had the faintest smile. On the picture, the godsend sign had been drawn with what looked like blood.

"What does it mean?"

Kaito didn't answer for a long time, and then he set the picture down. "It means I am going to die. And if someone could get into my office with my morning paper to leave this message, then it is quite possible that it will happen. I have twenty-four hours. That is what this means."

It couldn't happen. Not when Hiro was off somewhere lost in time. No, Kaito couldn't die while his son was away. They needed to stop whoever it was that had given them the message.

"Well, we can't let it happen," Ando said. "What can we do?"

"Call Angela Petrelli," Kaito said. "If anyone knows who could be doing this, it would be her. And if not, she might need a warning as well."

Ando didn't question Kaito and instead rushed to his office next to Kaito's where he could look up Angela's phone number. He found it quickly and called her. Four rings later she picked up and Ando quickly told her it was Kaito Nakamura calling.

"I've got her, line one," he said to Kaito, poking his head out of his office.

Kaito already had the phone and he was greeting Angela in English. Ando watched him for a while and then he went back to his office. Kaito Nakamura was practically like a father to him. He had spent so much time growing up at Hiro's house that he had been almost regarded as part of the family, and now at the prospect of Kaito dying, Ando felt panic well up in him. There had to be something that he could do

**Author's Note:** Despite the already ranty author's note up top, I felt I needed to rant down here too. Because that is what writers do. They rant. So, I shall rant about this chapter. Now, originally I had planned for Angela to go ahead and just tell Nathan and Claire about Peter being alive, but then I thought Angela wouldn't do that. Not to be cruel, but to make sure her vision came true, so I thought I'd clear that up...and that was my one big decision with hsi chapter. Another was having Nikki move to New York. I wanted Nikki and Micah more involved within the whole plot rather than have their own thing set apart from everyone else. And as to D.L. dying. I could think of a million ways to make his character useful and have him remain in the story...but I already have too many subplots, so someone had to go...and I'm not telling how (just that it is not the way he went on Heroes)...because I really really hated what they did to Nikki and Micah in season 2, so I'm changing their story completely. No Monica. Sorry if any one really liked her, I just feel like she was a character that was introduced just to be the reason Nikki died, and then she was gone in the next seasons...I could't think of a good reason to have her...Just figured I'd let you guys know seeing as those are the things I've just now figured out...and I think I will get a start at plotting the next chapter.

I'll hopefully have the next chapter up next weekend, if not the weekend after that. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this and any ideas that you might like incorporated, after all I'm still not fully commited to one plot yet. I also do not mind questions, so ask away.

-Erika


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